Cupcakes and Killers Read online

  Cupcakes and Killers

  A Read Wine Bookstore Cozy Mystery

  Laina Turner

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  Laina

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  About the Author

  Thanks for Reading

  Also by Laina Turner

  Chapter 1

  I flipped on the overhead lights as I walked through the door of the shop and continued to the small office in the back. Even after a few months, it was still hard to believe I was finally the owner—well, one-third owner—of a combination bookstore, coffee shop, and wine bar. A librarian by trade, I’d always been a book junkie. For years, my dream had been to own a bookstore, and finally, because of great friends, some money I had set aside, and a lot of hard work, that dream was realized a few months ago.

  I’m Trixie Pristine. Closer to forty than thirty, divorced, mother of a wonderful eight-year-old son, Cody. I am part owner of Read Wine. The other two owners are also my best friends, Sally and Cora. One of whom must have just arrived because I heard the front doorbell ding. Since a recent murder that had taken place in our store, we were all adamant about keeping that door locked during non-business hours when we were here by ourselves. I would’ve never thought in the sleepy little Michigan town of Romero we’d ever have to worry about something like that. Most people around here didn’t even lock their houses.

  “Trixie, where are you?” I heard Sally call from the front.

  “Where do you think? I’m in the back,” I yelled.

  A few minutes later, I heard the tapping of her heels on the wood floor. “I brought you some coffee. Thanks for starting the machine, by the way,” she said, setting my mug down on the desk. I’d started the coffee brewing on my way back to the office. “I added some of that new hazelnut creamer I got to try. It’s not as strong as some, and I think I like that.”

  I took a sip, being careful to not burn my tongue. Our coffeemaker made crazy hot coffee. “You’re right. It does have good flavor. So, how did it go with Tom last night?” Tom was Sally’s ex-husband, and since the death of his girlfriend, Sylvia, who had been murdered by a deranged snow globe collector, he’d been begging for Sally to take him back. Up until recently, Sally hadn’t even considered the idea. But she had been having second thoughts. Cora and I thought she was crazy for even entertaining the idea for a minute, but she kept trying to rationalize her reasoning. None of her reasons made sense to us.

  “The same. He took me for a nice dinner and bought me a present.” She held out her wrist so I could see the new diamond tennis bracelet that encircled it. “And gave me his million apologies followed by a million reasons why I should take him back. Sometimes I believe his crap—he seems so sincere. Then I remember I was married to him for years; I should know better. I feel bad for our girls. I think maybe I should give it another try for them. So they have parents who aren’t divorced.”

  “Sally, they’ve already been through him leaving, and they’re adjusting to the co-parenting schedule. Showing them a healthy, loving relationship is much more important than them seeing you unhappy just so the two of you can live together. Kids are smart. They will at some point figure out if you’re not happy. Better you be apart and happy than together and miserable,” I said.

  “You’re right. Maybe I’ll string him along a little while longer until I get the earrings to match this bracelet. Let him think he can buy his way back. That’s not too mean, is it?” she teased.

  “After all Tom has put you through in the last year, you deserve all the jewelry you want,” I said.

  “Enough of my problems. How are you doing with Jack being gone?” she said, changing the subject and taking another sip of her coffee.

  Jack was my boyfriend. At least, he had been. Maybe still was. I wasn’t sure what we were now. Jack recently moved back to California, where he was originally from. He had family business to deal with, and doing it from the Midwest wasn’t working. He’d wanted me to go with him, said he wanted to marry me. But the shop had just opened and more importantly I had Cody to consider. I wouldn’t want to take him away from his dad. While I loved Jack, and he was a great guy, I wasn’t ready to leave.

  “It’s the same. We talk or Skype every night, and I miss him terribly, but we’re at an impasse. He can’t come back here yet, and I don’t want to move there. At some point I assume we will stop communicating every night, and drift apart. It’s not anyone’s fault. It just is what it is right now.” I shrugged, trying not to look as upset as I felt. I’d spent many sleepless nights trying to convince my heart what my brain already knew.

  “I’m sorry, Trixie.” Sally gave me a hug. “I know you really thought he might be the one.”

  “Well, I’ve been wrong before,” I joked, referring to my failed first marriage. “But we can both live our love lives vicariously through Cora.” Cora was the third person in our close-knit trio. She had moved here a few years ago, unlike Sally and me, who’d been here all our lives, and she’d recently become engaged.

  “True. But marrying a guy you’ve only known a short while? I’m not sure we shouldn’t be trying to talk her out of this.”

  “Listen, just because you and I haven’t done so well in the relationship department doesn’t mean she won’t. You can’t stop true love.” I laughed. “Besides, Cora isn’t one to normally rush into things. If she’s ready to marry someone after a few weeks of being together, then who are we to criticize?”

  “You’re probably right. And it’s not like we haven’t known Jonathan forever. If he hurts Cora, he knows he has to deal with us.”

  Jonathan Straite had grown up with us, a couple grades lower in high school, but in a small town like ours, everyone knew everyone. He owned a motorcycle repair shop, which had been his father’s, that sat on the edge of town. He wasn’t at all the kind of person Sally or I would have ever thought would appeal to Cora. He was a biker. And one who fit the stereotype when you thought of what a biker looked like. Hair past his shoulders and scruffy beard, and faded jeans and a leather biker jacket were his standard uniform, though that outlaw appearance didn’t detract from how handsome he was. He even belonged to a motorcycle club, which added to his bad boy demeanor. Cora was more on the sophisticated side. From Chicago, she was more apt to wear a Donna Karan suit and Ferragamos than jeans and biker boots. She had become more casual since living here, but judging by outward appearances, they still didn’t fit. But Cora saw in Jonathan what Sally and I had always known. He was one of the nicest, sweetest, most loving teddy bears of a guy—as long as he liked you. If he didn’t, he wasn’t one to mess with. He was as loyal as anyone I’d ever known. They made a very odd couple, but then, maybe that was the recipe for a great relationship.

  “I’m still having a hard time understanding them as a couple,” Sally said, echoing my thoughts.

  “Why?”

  “Look at them. I can’t even picture how Cora fits in at the Royals
Motorcycle Club (RMC). It’s not exactly her crowd.”

  “Yeah, but they are both fantastic people. What others think of them as a couple shouldn’t matter. You know, the whole ‘opposites attract’ thing.”

  “I know. Maybe we should go with them one night so we can see for ourselves how she blends in,” Sally suggested.

  “I doubt she blends in, but I’m sure she doesn’t care about that either. Cora can get along with anyone.”

  “True. An original, that’s our Cora.”

  I glanced at my watch. “Crap, it’s almost time to open. We better get out there.”

  “It’s certainly hopping today!” I said to Sally two hours later, as she brought in a fresh tray of fancy cupcakes to put in the pastry case. I had sold the last one to a mom and her daughter on the way to school. Avery Mills, the owner of CupCakes and our dear friend, dropped off a delivery each morning. Her shop was on the other side of our small town, and when we had opened a few months ago and started carrying her fancy cupcakes, her business doubled.

  “I know. I think our mornings have been getting busier with the people on the way to work and school.”

  “And some of the retired folks who like to hang out.” I nodded in the direction of a table of older gentlemen. They’d started dividing their time between us and Tanner’s Diner around the corner, which wasn’t run by the Tanners anymore, but the new owner kept the name. They said on Tuesdays and Wednesdays their favorite waitress was off at the diner, so they preferred to come here. We appreciated their business, and it was fun watching them bicker with one another and flirt with all the ladies.

  Sally laughed. “Keeps the place interesting.”

  I grabbed a fresh pot of coffee and walked over to them. We normally didn’t serve people, but with these guys, I didn’t mind. “Refill, anyone?”

  The three gentlemen looked at me.

  “Sure. I could use some more caffeine,” one of them said.

  “Harvey, you better watch it. Don’t let Doris catch you having more than your one allotted cup,” one of the men said.

  “Why do you think I’m here? To get away from her nagging.”

  “Oh, Harvey, you wouldn’t know what to do without Doris,” I said.

  “I would know plenty. We’re getting divorced.”

  I stopped pouring coffee and looked at him, my eyes growing wide. “You’re kidding, right?” They had to have been married for almost fifty years. I’d gone to school with his grandson. People didn’t get divorced after that long, did they?

  One of the other gentlemen broke in. “He’s not kidding. She served him with divorce papers last week.”

  “Harvey! What did you do to make Doris mad enough to divorce you?” I put my hand on my hip.

  “It’s not me. She’s just become cranky in her old age. Anyways, I don’t much want to talk about it. How about one of those fancy red velvet cupcakes to ease an old man’s pain?” he said, and I noticed he didn’t seem his usual chipper self.

  “Sure, Harvey,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll go get you one.”

  I walked back over to the pastry case, where Sally was rearranging things. “Hand me a red velvet, please. Did you know Harvey and Doris were getting a divorce?” I said, as she handed me the cupcake and I put it on my plate.

  “I heard something about it at the bank the other day, but I thought it was just gossip. You know Missy, she likes to exaggerate.”

  “Well, it’s not. Harvey just confirmed it. Doris served him with papers last week.”

  Sally stared at me. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  “If they are getting a divorce after what, about a hundred years, then maybe there isn’t hope for us finding true love.”

  “I can’t believe it. Things must be pretty bad between them if they would split up after that long together.” I walked back around the counter, gave Harvey his cupcake, and went back to help Sally clean up the pastry and coffee area from the morning rush. Engrossed in wiping the coffee grounds out of the tray under the brewing station, I jumped when I heard a loud thump and then a scream. I looked up to see Harvey writhing on the floor, with his two friends kneeling beside him.

  “Trixie, call 9-1-1, I think Harvey’s having a heart attack!” one of the men yelled to me.

  I grabbed the phone, made the call, and then rushed out to where Harvey was lying on the ground. “What happened?” I asked one of the guys who’d been sitting with him.

  “I dunno. He fell out of his chair mid-sentence.”

  “He’s not breathing. We need to give him CPR,” I cried.

  Just as I started chest compressions—thank goodness for the CPR class I took as part of our food safety license—I heard the door slam open and looked to see the paramedics walking in. It helped we were only one block away from the station.

  “Out of the way, please. What happened here?” the lead paramedic asked, trying to assess the situation. He knelt beside Harvey, feeling for a pulse. “His heart’s not beating. Hand me the defibrillator!” he said to his partner.

  “He was drinking coffee and eating a cupcake when he choked and fell to the floor,” Harvey’s friend said.

  “He has a history of heart problems, and he drank more caffeine than he’s supposed to this morning,” I added, feeling guilty. I should have never let him have that second cup of coffee.

  The paramedics worked on him for a few more minutes, then set their equipment aside. “Let’s get him on the stretcher,” one of them said.

  I didn’t want to confirm the obvious, but I had to ask. “Is he . . . ?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said solemnly.

  “Oh my God,” Sally cried softly behind me.

  “What are we going to tell Doris?” I said. “That I killed her husband by serving him too much coffee?”

  “It’s not your fault, Trixie,” Sally said, rubbing my shoulder.

  “What happened here?” a booming voice said.

  “Clive, am I glad to see you!”

  Clive was the sheriff in our town, and also a former classmate of ours. We’d been friends forever.

  “I heard there was an incident on the police scanner and came over here. What have we got?” he asked the paramedic.

  “It appears to be a heart attack.”

  “Is that Harvey Wilson? Oh, man. This is going to be hard on the family.”

  The paramedic and his partner went about the business of getting Harvey’s body loaded up on the stretcher and into the ambulance. Turning the lights off, they pulled out of the parking lot at a regular speed, since there was no longer a rush to get to the hospital.

  “Clive, I feel so bad. I gave him too much coffee. I didn’t know he was getting a divorce,” I rambled fretfully.

  “Doris went through with it? Interesting. I doubt an extra cup of Joe caused Harvey to have a heart attack. He’s eighty-three. Probably just his time. So don’t go blaming yourself. I better head over to Doris’s and give her the news.”

  “Okay, Clive. Tell her we’re sorry,” I said as he walked out the door.

  “Nothing like a dead body to clear out the place,” Sally said dryly.

  I looked around, and she was right. Not a soul remained. “Can’t say I’d be any different. It is kind of unsettling, even if it was natural causes. Do you think we should close the rest of the day? You know, out of respect?”

  “Yeah. I’ll call Cora and tell her not to come in, and instead to meet us at the diner for an early lunch. I’ll make a sign to put on the door that we’ll reopen tomorrow.”

  “He just keeled over. Right there on the spot?” Cora asked, as we were all seated at a booth in the diner an hour later.

  I nodded. “I gave him too much caffeine.”

  “Oh, get over the caffeine thing. That second cup of coffee isn’t what killed him,” said Sally.

  “No, it wasn’t,” Clive said, coming up behind me and apparently overhearing our conversation.


  I looked over my shoulder. “What do you mean?”

  “Can I sit?”

  “Sure,” I said, scooting over in the booth to make room. Clive sat down.

  “So what happened?” Sally asked him.

  “He didn’t die from natural causes. He was poisoned.”

  “What!” I exclaimed.

  “Very preliminary, but the medical examiner knew he was poisoned due to the way the whites of his eyes looked. I don’t have all the details yet. She’s running the full battery of tests now, but they won’t be ready until tomorrow.”

  I put my head in my hands. “Harvey was poisoned while in our shop eating and drinking our coffee and cupcakes. This is a nightmare. This kind of negative press could kill a business.” I winced at my poor choice of words. “C’mon, Clive. I’ll take you over there. The quicker we can clear this up, the better.”

  Chapter 2

  I went home after taking Clive to Read Wine so his guys could get what they needed. He thought we could reopen the day after tomorrow once the tests came back, which was good news. Staying closed for too long would be bad for business. It’s not like we had money rolling in. I originally thought I would come home and use this free time to clean my house. I wasn’t the best housekeeper and had been too busy in the last few months to stay on top of things. The house was beyond cluttered with things I needed to go through and put away. I thought it might be a good distraction from what had happened. However, thirty minutes later, I was still sitting at the kitchen table enjoying a glass of iced tea, while reading the newest issue of In Style magazine.